


Heart of the Ocean

by Walkinthegarden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Angst, Cheating, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Forbidden Love, Joffrey's actually sorda decent, King Joffrey, Physical Abuse, Princess Sansa, Queen Sansa, Sansa-centric, Suicide Attempt, Titanic - Freeform, Tragedy, semi-happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinthegarden/pseuds/Walkinthegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa Stark is not happy in her engagement to Joffrey Baratheon. When she, her betrothed, and her Mother, set sail for Westeros after a vacation in the Free Cities on the new and unsinkable Titanic, she meets Jon Snow, a peasant who saves her life after an attempted suicide. Nothing will never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was meant to have Gendry as Jack instead of Jon, but I felt Jon fit better.

**Chapter 1**

Sansa Stark stares up at the large ship in disinterest. She has been on many ships in her lifetime and so far the _Titanic_ has done little to impress her.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about, we’ve been on many a ship this size,” she says to her betrothed.

Joffrey laughs at her, calling her stupid in his head no doubt. She hates it when he laughs at her, but she says nothing, like a proper young Lady should. “Many things are pitiful Sansa, but not the _Titanic_. It’s much larger than any ship you’ve been on I assure you, and far more comfortable for the better half as well,” Joffrey taunts, turning to help Sansa’s mother out of the car. “It appears our Lady is not easily impressed.”

“She never has been,” Catelyn deflects easily, throwing Sansa a warning look, “This is the ship that is rumored to be unsinkable?”

“It is no rumor Lady Catelyn, the gods could not sink it,” Joffrey says proudly, as if he himself had crafted the beast. It takes all of Sansa’s will not to roll her eyes while Joffrey turns to Loras Tyrell, his squire. “Take our trunks to where ever they must go.” Joffrey turns back to them and Sansa tries her best to smile, though she finds it difficult. “We’d best be off, follow me if it pleases you my Ladies.”

“Of course,” Sansa replies sweetly, taking Joffrey’s arm.

They twist and turn through the crowd of people. Sansa nearly trips twice but she says nothing, knowing Joffrey will stop and _have words_ with whomever he deems responsible for her hardship.

“Pigs the lot of them, must have missed their seasonly baths,” Joffrey snarls as he pushes passed the baseborn peasants he hates so much. Sansa wants to defend them, say something to against his cruel words, but she doesn’t.

“Why do you always wait until the last moment for everything Joffrey?” her mother pipes up from behind them. “We could have avoided all this had you gotten our tickets earlier.”

Sansa nearly laughs at the look on Joffrey’s face, but she wisely doesn’t.

“Would you love me any other way, Lady Catelyn? And it was Sansa that made us late trying to look beautiful,” he replies.

Sansa does scowl at that. He _would_ bring that up. She’ll soon be married to a monster, all she has is her beauty, and he was the one that told her to change. He said she will be a Baratheon and should therefore be dressed in Baratheon colors instead of Stark ones.

As they board the ship, she stops for a moment to stare up at it. The Ship of Dreams they call it, but it isn’t. If it were a ship of dreams she would not be going to marry the monster that is her betrothed.

“Come, Sansa,” Joffrey tells her, pressing his hand a little too hard against hers on his arm.

“I’m sorry Joff,” she apologizes, smiling sweetly at him, “but I have just realized that you are right, of course, it is a grand ship.” The lies so easily roll off her tongue, but he smiles at her and she is content to know that she has made her future as his wife just a bit easier with this moment.

They enter the ship and are quickly escorted to their rooms.

Once she is left to her own devices, she quickly goes to remove a few metal works from her bags. They are beautiful, at least to her, but she can hear Joffrey scuff at her from across the sitting room.

“A waste of good money,” he says, sounding both spoiled and arrogant. Sansa ignores him, handing her handmaidens the pieces anyway.

“Place them in my room Shae,” she tells her handmaiden, ignoring her betrothed.

“They are beautiful Lady Sansa,” Shae says, sneaking a glare towards Joffrey.

 ****  
Sansa laughs, as her handmaiden has never approved of Joffrey. He has been the subject of their conversation many times and Shae has never been shy of speaking her mind about him. She calls him a wicked boy who will bring nothing but misery to any wife of his. Sansa can’t help but agree, but what’s done is done and she is stuck in the marriage no matter how much she might wish she isn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa contemplates suicide and someone stops her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Jon!

**Chapter 2**

Sansa is terribly bored. Her mother and Joffrey arranged to eat with important people whom Sansa cares nothing about. They speak of the ship, as if it was hand crafted by the Smith himself. She finds it very dull, but says nothing, as she always does.

“What would you like to eat my Lords and Ladies?” a server asks.

“We’ll have the suckling pig as rare as you can make it with a side of orange slices,” Joffrey orders before she can even open her mouth. As if realizing she is there, Joffrey turns to her. “You like pig don’t you Sansa?”

“Will you feed it to her as well?” Arianne Martell asks, raising an eyebrow.

Sansa is thankful that someone seems to realize how horribly controlling Joffrey is, but she says nothing while he turns to look at the Princess of Dorne as if she has just insulted his honor. It makes Sansa almost wish she hadn’t.

“Titanic they call it, and who thought of such a name?” Arianne says after a moment.

“I did,” a the ship master says with a smile, “I wanted to tell of the ship’s size.”

“Did you? Men are always obsessed with size, aren’t they?” Sansa says with a stupid smirk. She knows Joffrey will yell about the comment later and her mother is already having a cow, but the look on the man’s face is priceless while Joffrey’s is livid. She knows any good will she bought in the past month has been undone but she can’t bring herself to care.

“Sansa, what has gotten into you?” her mother hisses in a low tone.

Sansa says nothing, instead rising from her seat and running off before anyone has a chance to call after her. She runs onto the deck, where the dogs and the peasants belong. This is not the part of the deck for her breed of people but she doesn’t care. The sea is beautiful around her, nothing to spoil it. She barely has a chance to appreciate it when Joffrey comes up behind her and grabs her arm, turning her to face him. His fingers dig into her arm but she doesn’t let the pain register on her face. Out of the corner of her eye she can see a few peasants looking up at them. She wonders if they see her distress or can’t see past the picture she and Joffrey are beside one another.

“How dare you say such a thing and then act like a stupid child running off like that,” Joffrey hisses angrily, though by his face you’d think he were saying something sweet.

“We are still children,” she says angrily, pulling her arm from him and walking away once more.

He follows her after a moment. “Go and ready for the party,” he demands, pushing passed her.

She sighs to herself, but does as she’s told. Shae is waiting for her with a dress out on the bed. When Sansa first met Joffrey as a naive girl of fourteen, she would have been delighted to accompany him as his soon to be wife in a gown of the finest silk and the most expensive jewels, but now it is like a chain. She cannot breath as Shae wraps the gown around her and laces it up. She feels like nothing more than a doll while one handmaiden paints her face and Shae pins up her hair.

It has become so routine. Joffrey comes to collect her, looking so handsome and charming like one of the knights from the songs her mother once sang her to sleep with. As he pulls her into the ballroom she is surrounded by people just like Joffrey, liars and manipulators who want nothing more than power and wealth. They are the same monsters her betrothed is. They suffocate her. They all want something from her. She is the one who will soon be the wife of the most powerful heir in all the Seven Kingdoms.

As the waves crash around her she can’t breath. She quickly excuses herself under the guise of using the powder room and the minute she is out of their sight she breaks into a run.

She runs as fast as she can, until she is at the very back of the ship. She grabs hold of the rails and stares down at the sea below. It is black and rough and beautiful. She imagines the waves turning her over and the water filling her lungs. It would be so easy to die. The thought does not frighten her as much as it should. Before she knows what she is doing she is climbing over the side, holding on tightly so she may look at the water beneath her. It’s like it’s calling her.

“Don’t do it,” a voice says from behind her.

She whips her head around to see who it is that asks her to not end it all. She’s never seen him before. He is peasant, with black curls that fall about his face. His mouth is slightly open and his eyes are squinted in worry. She has never met the man in her life and not only does he plead with her not to end it all but she can tell that he means it. He does not want her to jump.

“Just give me your hand, it will all be alright,” he promises her.

She wants to laugh at him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know the man she is to marry is a monster or that her mother is so obsessed with duty and saving their family’s fortune that she’s forcing her daughter to marry the beast.

“It will never be alright,” she cries, tears falling down her face.

“If you let go, I’ll hafta go in after you,” he tells her. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion. Why would he follow her into the water? He would die.

“You’d be killed.”

“I’m a good swimmer,” he says, and there is a ghost of a smile in his eyes, “but it is fairly cold. Have you ever been in the North?”

“What?” she asks, wondering what he could possibly be getting at.

“I spent the first seven years of my life there. I don’t remember it well but I remember how cold the water is, the few times of summer it wasn’t ice that is.”

“I’m from the North,” she says.

“Are you? You don’t look like a Northern Lady?”

“My mother’s from the South,” she replies, though she doesn’t know why she feels that she needs to explain how she looks.

“I see, well then if you’re from the North you know how cold that water is, and how much it hurts when you breath it in. I don’t want to jump in after ya.” He takes a deep breath and removes his fur coat. “But I will. Do you really want to do this?” he asks, taking off his glove and extending his hand to her.

She looks at it for a moment, the tears frozen on her cheek. He makes it all sounds so easy, but does she really want to damn him to jump in after her? She will die the minute she hits the water she knows and so will he. She wants to believe him, that everything will be alright but she knows better than to believe that. Still, she finds herself taking his hand.

“I’m Jon Snow.”

“I’m Sansa Stark.”

“Of Winterfell?”

“Yes,” she says with a sheepish smile. She’d have blushed if there was any heat in her body.

As she turns around her foot slips and she feels her heart stop. Her body lurches backward and she doesn’t want to die anymore. She clings to his arm but she knows she’s too heavy. She screams, begs for someone to come help.

“I’ve got you, Sansa listen to me,” he calls to her, soothing her panic just a bit, “I’ve got you I promise and I won’t let you go. You have to help me, pull yourself up.”

She looks at him as if he is crazy. She can’t pull herself up, she has no strength, but somehow she finds it. Even as blind terror sinks through each part of her body, something inside her reacts to his words. She pulls herself up just far enough for him to latch his other arm around her and continue to pull her upward.

****  
Her lower half hurts as it bangs against the rails but when they both tumble to the floor of the deck she doesn’t care about the pain. Her heart is racing and her breaths are quick and shallow. She releases Jon, who is bent over her just as footsteps approach. She is vaguely aware of someone saying something but it takes her a moment to gather her bearings. Jon steps away from her and rough hands pull her up and over to a crate while someone wraps a blanket around her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey shows an angry side and a tender side.

**Chapter 3**

Joffrey and her mother arrive quickly, someone having gone to get them. Her mother rushes to her side while Joffrey all but attacks Jon in a flying leap.

“How dare you swine attack my betrothed! I should have you thrown from the ship this moment for even attempting to touch her!”

“Joff!” Sansa calls, unable to bear the thought of him hurting the man that saved her life. “Joff stop!” She rises from the crate and rushes to her betrothed’s side. “It wasn’t his fault, an accident only I swear.”

“An accident?” he asks, looking between Jon and Sansa.

Sansa’s brain is still running a mile a minute but she knows she must come up with some excuse. “Yes an accident, I was only trying to look over and I slipped somehow. He came to my rescue, pulled me up. I would have surely fallen to my death had he not been here to save me.”

“He’s a hero then,” Catelyn says with a smile as she thanks Jon stiffly. Sansa swears she sees a flicker of recognition in her mother’s eye when she looks at Jon.

“Let us get you inside Sansa, you must be freezing,” Joffrey says affectionately, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. He goes to take her away when her mother interjects once again.

“Should he not get anything for saving my daughter’s life?” Catelyn asks, raising an eyebrow at Joffrey.

“Of course, twenty gold dragons to him then,” Joffrey says cheerfully, once again turning to Sansa and taking her around the soldiers.

“Is that all I’m worth to you?” she asks, glaring up at him. She will pay for this, all of it, but not until she is married and right now the man that saves her deserves her kindness. She likes him, he is far more genuine than any of the nobles at court.

“Of course not my fairy Lady, he will join us for dinner tomorrow. I insist.” Joffrey turns once again, his eyes narrowed and dangerous, daring her to speak again on her savior’s behalf. When she says nothing he is visibly pleased as he takes her about the shoulders again and steers her towards their rooms.

Later that night, as Sansa sits before her looking glass, there is a knock at her door. She looks up in time to see Joffrey opening the door. Her heart stops and her breath falters. He cannot possibly mean to strike her already. Her mother is a dutiful woman but surely she won’t allow her daughter to be beaten beneath her nose?

“You’ve been unhappy lately Sansa, and I won’t insult you by asking.”

Joffrey sounds almost human when he speaks to her, but she knows better than to believe such a falsehood. She looks at him through the looking glass. He looks tired and there is something in his hands. She stays silent.

“I was going to wait and give this to you at our engagement banquet at the Red Keep, but I think you should have it now. Maybe it will make you smile whilst I cannot.” He presents a box to her. She looks at it for a moment before looking up to his face. He is charming, always has been, but she has seen his dark side. “I hope you will like it.” He opens the box.

She is stunned when she sees the beautiful necklace within. The gem is bigger than a coin and lays on a heavy silver chain. It is of the darkest blue and gleams in the candle light.

“It is magnificent,” she whispers, reaching forward to touch it.

“It is but a token my love, a diamond to symbolize my love for you,” he says excitedly, removing it from the box to drape it around her neck. It falls perfectly against her pale skin and compliments both her ice blue eyes and her fire red hair. She cannot help but think it looks as if it was made to lay across her neck. “It was made by Aegon the Conqueror, for his sister-wives. It was once said to have a twin but that it was thieved many eras ago and lost in a storm. In honor of the lost necklace, this one was named The Heart of the Ocean.”

Sansa knows the story, having begged her mother to tell it to her often as a child. “It’s, very much.”

“Fit for a Princess, I will be King one day. We will rule together Sansa, if you will only submit to me.”

Submit to him. If Sansa were smart she would have, but she can’t. She isn’t her mother. Her mother knew how to live a life devoted to duty, but Sansa is not a Tully like her mother. She does not live by _Family, Duty, Honor_ , she is a Stark of Winterfell and her words are _Winter is Coming_. She wants to say that to Joffrey, scream that he can never tame her because she is not his horse. He treats his own servants better than he treats her. His servants he respects, while her he only covets. She is a prize all on her own, the beloved jewel of the North. If her father were still alive he’d be outraged that her mother is sending her South, even if it is to marry a King. Eddard Stark always wanted his children to marry of the North, like true Northern children.

The jewel weighs heavy on her neck. It’s beautiful and while it looks perfect against her it’s a coller. It is Joffrey’s way of claiming her in the eyes of man, most notably Jon. She feels the scream boil beneath the surface, but she only turns her head and smiles at her betrothed, leaning towards him to kiss his lips. They are soft beneath hers and he is gentle.

“I love you,” she lies against his lips.

****  
“Queen Sansa Baratheon,” he whispers, and she wants to fall into the ocean all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey will be nicer here than in the books/TV show, but still a jerk. Drop me a note, what do you think? And does someone have an idea for the drawing scene? I don't feel like Jon can draw in cannon so I'm trying to think of how he can do something similar so that I can still incorporate it, because I feel it's important.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa talk and Catelyn expresses a dislike for Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like Catelyn, never have, that will probably be exemplified in this story.

**Chapter 4**

“I was in the North for a while as a child, though I can’t hardly remember who cared for me. I went South when I was seven years old to live with a knight and his family. They died when I eleven and I’ve been on my own since,” Jon tells her, flashing her a side smile as they walk across the deck of the nobles.

“Was it difficult?” she asks him, wondering how a boy so young could possibly take care of himself.

“I met a girl when I was fourteen and her family took me in. We fell in love right away, after she tried to kill me of course,” he says with a laugh.

“Of course,” Sansa giggles. She likes Jon very much, he is a good man and despite his life’s hardships he seems to see the best in everything and she wishes she could see it too. “What was her name?”

“Ygritte, she died when the greyscale plague went through Westeros.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes automatically, though he looks at her strangely when she does.

“Look, Sansa, we’ve walked all about the ship and spoken of everything from the weather to my life, but that isn’t why you asked me to walk with you,” Jon says after a long pause.

Sansa sighs, stopping in her tracks to look up at him, squinting her eyes against the sun that streams in behind him and makes him look like a gift from the gods. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re too perceptive Mr. Snow?” she asks.

“Many, and you insist I call you Sansa so I insist you call me Jon,” he tells her.

“Jon, you did be a great favor yesterday, by saving my life and lying to my husband.” She hates the words the minute they leave her mouth. Joffrey is not her husband, at least he isn’t yet.

“You’re welcome, beauty like yours… it would be a sin to see it wasted,” he tells her.

She blushes before she can stop herself. She bows her head in embarrassment and she can practically hear his grin. Why does he do this to her? She’s known him for less than a day and already she feels as if she’s known him her life. He is kinder than Joffrey, sweeter than Joffrey, more genuine than Joffrey, and better than Joffrey. Already she can imagine a life being Jon’s wife instead. They could marry and live with her brother at Winterfell. With Robb’s refusal to take a wife, her and Jon’s children could be the heirs of the North. They could run and play in the snow and learn their mother’s words. She finds herself wanting that life much more than being a Queen of Westeros with only Joffrey at her side. He will take her children from her the minute they are born and train them to be just like him. The thought makes her sick.

“I know you must think little of me, a wealthy woman betrothed to a King and destined to be Queen. What possible hardships could I have faced,” she says, tears burning in the very back of her eyes.

“No, not to offend, but do not pretend to know what I think Sansa. When I saw you on the rail, I was wondering what could have happened to make you wish so desperately to die. What you tried to do is not a decision easily come to.”

Sansa looks away in shame but he takes her chin and turns her head back towards him. “Tell me. I want to know.” She remains silent and she hears him take a deep breath. He is frustrated with her, but unlike with Joffrey she isn’t afraid. “Do you know what came to mind the minute I heard your name? I realized that you were the girl from the stories, the famed jewel of the North. The girl who is said to be more beautiful than the Maiden herself, whose eyes sparkle like sapphires, whose laughter is more perfect than music, and whose hair is more bright than the sun.”

“I used to be that girl,” she sighs, the tears pulling closer as she falls onto a bench. As the tears begin to prickle at the side of her eyes, she hides away into her hands to compose herself. “I was a princess in all but title growing up, tucked away at Winterfell surrounded by my mother and brothers and sister and father. Then the plague came through the North and people grew sick so quickly. The sickness claimed my youngest brother Rickon first, then Bran, then Arya. We buried three children in the span of a fortnight. My mother cried at their graves for weeks. Then my father got sick. We were forced to watch as he wasted away to nothing. His body was not yet cold when they came to my mother and said that the aid we’d sent out when the sickness started cost more than what we had. She told them not to worry and she sat at her desk and wrote to King Robert immediately. She told him of our troubles and asked to marry me off to Joffrey in the name of my father, his friend. He agreed. I met Joffrey not long after. At first, I loved him, thinking he was my perfect prince. I was a stupid girl then. Until one night I snuck out of my room hoping to see him and saw him beating a servant girl in his room. She cried and she cried but he just continued to hit her until blood ran down her face and two teeth had been knocked out. _That_ is the man I am to marry.”

“I am so sorry Sansa,” Jon says, and he means it as he sits down beside her. She looks up to face him and the look on his face is one she hasn’t seen in such a long time. It’s the look her brother and father used to give her when they’d failed to protect her somehow. He looks saddened and slightly angry, it looks out of place on his young and handsome face.

What has she done? She barely knows this man and she bore her soul to him. Why does shw trust him? She once trusted Joffrey and she couldn’t have been more wrong. “I… I shouldn’t have told you that. I shouldn’t have. I must go. Please don’t tell anyone what I’ve told you,” she stutters, her courtesy lost to her at the moment. She smoothes her skirts as she stands and is all but ready to run out of sight when an arm grabs her elbow.

“Please, don’t go,” Jon asks her, holding her arm lightly so she may pull away if she wants. She smiles at that. She turns slowly to look at him again. He looks confused at her smile and he looks so handsome that way. The soft ocean breeze has pushed a few stray hairs into his eyes and those wonderfully dark eyes are softened and gentle. She wants to throw herself into his arms and allow him to hold her close. He can save her, she knows he can.

“Why do you smile?” he asks after a moment, his hand still on her elbow and her still poised to walk away.

“Joffrey would never hold me so gently,” she says before she can stop the words.

“Sansa!” comes her mother’s voice, and they both turn to see her mother standing agast with Lady Arianne and Lady Alerie.

“Mother,” Sansa greets, quickly recovering, “Lady Arianne, Lady Alerie. Mother, you remember Jon, the man that saved my life?”

“Of course Sansa, how could I forget?” Lady Catelyn says icily, any love her mother might have had for the young man yesterday is gone and replaced with contempt. “Good day to you Jon.”

“And you my Lady,” Jon replies, clearly uncomfortable. Sansa bites at her inner cheek, turning desperate eyes to Lady Arianne, who smiles comfortingly and steps closer.

“So you are the young man that saved Lady Sansa? I would very much like to have you around next time I’m to be a victim of the Stranger’s accidents,” Lady Arianne steps in, placing a tender hand on Jon’s shoulder that makes Sansa release a breath.

Before anything else can be said, a bell rings twice to announce dinner.

“Shall we go and dress mother?” Sansa asks quickly, taking her mother’s arm. She bows her head to Lady Arianne and Lady Alerie and turns to drag her away. “I will see you at dinner Jon.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has dinner in the first class dining room.

**Chapter 5**

Dressing for dinner is a silent affair. Sansa knows her mother is angry, for what she’s not sure but at the moment she doesn’t care. She dresses in a gown of pale gold, knowing it will not only bring out her eyes but serve as a way to put Joffrey in a better mood. She even goes so far as to have Shae pin her hair back with a hair pin Joffrey bought her of golden daisies.

When she exits her room, she sees her mother and Joffrey standing by the fireplace, already dressed and talking about Dornish architecture. Joffrey is the first to notice her presence and she is happy when he looks pleased at her choice of dress.

“You look wonderful darling,” he tells her, stepping away from her mother to gently kiss her cheek. He steps back to reveal her mother, who nods to Sansa in pleasant acknowledgment.

Still, it is her mother and Joffrey that leave together, leaving Sansa to trail behind them. She doesn’t mind, excited to see Jon. He wouldn’t leave her alone, surely. She stops in the center of the hall on the way, suddenly realizing that Jon must not have anything to wear. If he shows up at the dinner hall in his commoner’s clothes they will eat him alive. She hastens her steps, not to catch up with her mother and betrothed, who are already down the hall unaware she has lagged behind, but to save her savior from the monsters of court.

She arrives at the top of the Grand Staircase and searches for him feverishly. Then a head of black curls catches her eye. It can’t be can it? The gentleman at the foot of the stairs is dressed finely and Jon would not own such a handsome garment, would he? As she descends the stairs, her eyes widen as the man turns to face her. It is him! Her mouth nearly drops open but thankfully she composes herself quickly. Joffrey and her mother step right passed him, unaware that the man they both so dislike is only steps away. She cannot help but laugh to herself.

He sees her, and his eyes grow wide. She blushes, slowing her steps and bending her head so her descent is almost seductive. His eyes never leave her, but they aren’t lustful like Joffrey’s, they hold real love. When she makes it to the last stair, he takes her right gloved hand in his and brings it up to his lips, his eyes never breaking contact with her.

“May I escort you to dinner Lady Sansa?” he asks, a playful smile on his face.

“You may,” she replies coyly, taking his offered arm, though it is she that leads them over to her mother and Joffrey.

“My love,” she says, though the words are stale in her mouth, “mother, you remember Mr. Snow?”

Joffrey and her mother turn and are both clearly surprised when they see Jon in his fine garment.

“Mr. Snow? I could scarcely recognize you, masquerading as a gentlemen, you could almost look the part,” Joffrey both insults and praises, one of his many talents.

“Almost,” Jon replies, giving her fiance a stiff smile in the process.

“Wonderful,” Joffrey says, finally turning away and offering his arm to her mother.

Sansa turns and gives Jon a smile before they follow her family. They descend a second and third staircase before they are in the dining hall. “That is Lady Margaery, over there with her husband Lord Renly, Joffrey’s aunt and uncle, though Lord Renly has been said to prefer the company of Margaery’s brother Loras, Joffrey’s squire. Over by there is Lady Asha, an Ironborn from the North. It is said she kills the men that share her bed. And over by the other staircase is speaking with my mother and Joffrey is Prince Oberyn, Princess Arianne’s uncle. He has seven bastards, all girls, and a paramour he loves dearly but can never marry. It is said he shares his bed with both men and women, a scandalous affair outside Dorne.”

“Well Dorne has always been more liberal in their practices,” Princess Arianne says as she comes up behind them. “Would you mind escorting me to dinner?” she asks Jon.

“It would be an honor to escort a Princess,” Jon replies smoothly, offering his other arm to the Dornish Princess. Sansa smiles, though there is a pang in her heart at the thought of another beautiful woman showing him attention.

“Darling,” Joffrey calls over his shoulder, but Sansa ignores him, keeping her head turned to Arianne so it appears as if they are in conversation.

As they swept into the dining hall they mingled and swept from couple to couple even as Arianne went off to do the gods only know. They never suspect that Jon isn’t one of them. They might have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for Sansa’s ever troublesome mother.

“Mr. Snow, tell us, are the rooms comfortable in third class?”

The table stops to listen and Sansa sends a pointed look to her mother who doesn’t once look her way.

“The best I’ve ever seen on a ship Lady Catelyn,” Jon replies smoothly, though she can tell her mother’s comment hurt.

“Mr. Snow saved my lovely Sansa’s life yesterday after she nearly fell from the rails at the back of the ship.”

As they begin to serve the meal, Sansa sees Jon’s confusion as he stares down at the many forks and spoons around his plates. She is too far away to help him and is relieved when she sees him lean towards Princess Arianne, who whispers something in reply.

“Your ship is beautiful Lord Beric, a sight to behold,” Sansa says to the handsome man beside her.

“Thank you Sansa,” the Lord replies, giving her a smile.

“Where do you live Mr. Snow?” her mother asks, much to Sansa’s chagrin. Can’t her mother just leave him alone?

“For now, here on the ship, and after it’ll be up to the luck the gods bestow on me,” he says.

Sansa looks up at that comment. She didn’t know he was homeless. Maybe later she can convince Joffrey to give him a position at the castle. He’s told her he’s good with a sword, maybe he can teach Lord’s sons the basics.

“You find such a life appealing?” Lady Catelyn asks in false sweetness. If Sansa were closer to her mother she would have asked her to leave it alone.

“I do, Lady Catelyn. Life is dull to me when it is one thing after another that you’ve known about for weeks. I like not knowing where my day will go or what will happen tomorrow. There is a freedom to it.”

Freedom, it’s all Sansa wants anymore. All her life she’s thought she was better than the common folk because of her family’s wealth, but listening to Jon describe his life, she realizes that it was he who is better than her. He is free to do whatever he wants whenever he wants to do it. He does what pleases him and leaves behind what doesn’t. She’s only dreamed of such happiness in a long time.

“Now they will go to the smoking room and congratulate one another on being so famously rich,” Arianne says with a smirk. Sure enough, before she’s even finished the words, the men rise with talk of the smoking room.

“Shall I escort you back to the rooms Sansa dear?” Joffrey asks her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. She’s startled at his tenderness but pleased. Maybe it won’t be so terrible as his wife, maybe she can do it.

Joffrey leaves and Jon approaches her, smiling down at her like he holds some secret.

“I had best be going Lady Sansa, thank you for allowing me to accompany you to dinner,” he tells her, taking her hand and brushing his lips over it.

She smiles up at him, realizing only after he has left that there is a paper in her hand. With a peak over her shoulder to make sure her mother is not watching, she opens it.

****  
_Make your own freedom. Meet me at the clock._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a note, let me know what you think. Would love to hear from some of you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa accompanies Jon to a party for the third class.

**Chapter 6**

Sansa quickly excuses herself, going as fast as she can without drawing attention to herself. She goes up the two flights of stairs to the Grand Staircase with the clock on the wall. Jon is standing there, smiling coyly at her.

“Would you like to go to a real affair Lady Sansa?” he asks her.

She bites her lip in hesitation. She shouldn’t go, she really shouldn’t. Joffrey will have a cow if she goes and her mother will die of embarrassment, but she cannot help herself and she takes his offered hand.

The room is lively with music and dancing and common folk swearing loudly as they play poker or are rejected by a dancing partner. She feels terribly out of place, dressed in her gold gown with glittering diamonds and hair perfectly pinned up. They stop to look at her for a moment admiring her beauty and obvious wealth before returning to their activities.

Jon weaves her through the crowd with ease, taking her to a group near the back. “Sansa, this is my friend Sam and our other friends Grenn and Pyp. Fellas, this is Sansa.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Sansa says sweetly, though they look at her like she is crazy for it.

“Jon!” a little girl yells as she runs towards them. The girl is beautiful and reminds Sansa vaguely of Arya. “Jon, you’ve come back from the rich folk? Dance with me, you promised.”

Jon throws a smile Sansa’s way and quickly removes his jacket and bowtie, tossing them to the side before scooping the girl up into his arms.

“Sit, Sansa, she’ll be keeping him a bit. The girl loves him to death,” Grenn tells her, clearing off the chair beside him.

She nods to Jon’s friend, taking the seat with a smile as she watches Jon swing the girl up into his arms and spin her around. The girl squeals and giggles as they dance. It warms Sansa’s heart to see them. Would Joffrey be so tender with their own daughter? She doubts it. If she were marrying Jon she could have many children with him and they would be loved and cared for. They would be the perfect little family.

“Here Lady Sansa, try some of this,” Sam says, handing her a glass of beer. She stares at it for a moment, wondering what her mother would think, before smiling like a cat and taking the glass from his hand. She takes a large gulp, not liking the taste one bit but enjoying the rebellious aspect of it immensely. This is living, she decides.

She laughs and claps along with the toon, completely overwhelmed by the assault of nuances. It is not a different world she’s landed in, they still dance and drink and gossip, but it’s a free-er world and she quite likes it.

The dance comes to an end and the common-folk quickly switch their partners while Jon escorts his young dance companion over to Sansa’s table.

“I’m going to dance with the pretty Lady,” Jon tells the child, crouched low so that they’re at equal level. The girl nods, but there is a scowl on her face and Sansa knows the child doesn’t like her very much. If the girl was of just a little more value to Jon she might have cared.

“What?” Sansa suddenly asks, the color draining from her face at the thought of a dance. She knows how to dance, has studied it since she was a little girl, but this dancing is different. She does not know this song or this dance. She will look a fool if she tries it.

“Come on, you’ll be alright, I promise,” he swears, pulling her up by her hand before she can properly protest.

“Jon, Jon I don’t know this dance,” she screeches in a most unlady-like manner. She is terrified as he pulls her onto the dance floor but he laughs away her fears with a golden smile.

“There is no room for the gods in this dance my Lady,” he jokes as he places his hand on her waist and pulls her closer. She blushes deeply at both his words and the proximity. She opens her mouth to protest but before the word leave her lips the instruments let out a hiss and a folk song surrounds them. She has never heard it before but she can hear the Northern influence. A wave of calm washes over her and she lets her feet take control. Their movements don’t sink and they most look ridiculous but she doesn’t care. The feeling of Jon’s hand on her waist and his breath on her cheek is enough to make her forget where she is and what is expected of her. Before long she is no longer on her feet, Jon has hoisted her up so her weight rests against his chest as he swings her about with ease. She has never laughed so hard and so truly in her life.

The pins have fallen out of her hair, it is the first thing she notices when the music stops, that and Jon’s closeness, and the fact that everyone is staring at them. Jon still has her hoisted on his chest and one of her arms is still wrapped around him while the other cradles his cheek. Her cheeks are pink and her hair has fallen down to blanket both her shoulders and his. She imagines how they must look, chests heaving, panting, with their faces only inches apart.

“Kiss the girl or let her go my friend!” someone shouts.

The moment is lost and they break apart, both blushing feverishly. With a smile Sansa drunkenly takes Jon’s arm and leads him away from the center of the floor and over to Grenn and Sam and the little girl.

“Don’t worry darling, you’re still my number one girl,” Jon tells her as he picks her up and places her on his lap. The girl smiles before twisting around to glare at Sansa who only smiles in response.

Grenn is in the middle of arm wrestling someone as she makes her way towards him, an idea forming in her head. Grenn is winning and she grabs a glass of beer from a passing man. She washes it down quickly, hoping it will make her brave enough to do what she is about to do next. She feel it’s effects immediately.

“You think you’re strong as the Warrior? Have you ever seen a ballet?” she asks, her small hands propped on her waist. She’s trying to look stern but she’s half drunk and all she wants to do is fall over laughing.

“Little prissy girls dancing about the stage?” Grenn’s wrestling partner asks, obviously offended that she would dare imply they’re stronger. Sansa’s grin widens considerably.

“I’m sorry Lady Sansa but there’s a reason the Maiden isn’t a god of strength,” Grenn tells her as if she were a little girl.

“Jon!” she calls, extending her hand out towards him, happy to note the look of terror on his face. It’s refreshing to see him so out of his comfort zone, though she imagines he must have been at dinner with her and the high borns, only now he looks it.

She watches with an odd satisfaction as the people around her clear away tables to give them space. Jon looks incredibly nervous as he approaches her. Sansa gives him a smirk as she gathers her skirts into her hand and kicks off her shoes before using her other hand to take his.

“Sir, do you know The Secret Garden by Zbigniew Preisner?” she asks, her nerves taking over when she realizes the musicians might not know such a fine piece; still, she doesn’t let it show on her face.

“I do!” a woman pipes up, stepping out into the clearing and towards the piano. With a smile the woman grabs the clarinet and trumpet players by the arms and whispers into their ears before sitting herself at the piano. She gives Sansa a nod before brushing her fingers against the keys.

“Just follow me,” Sansa whispers as she steps towards Jon, wrapping an an arm around his front while he does the same to her. As the music starts they both walk in small, even steps, in a circle, looking only at each other. When the tempo changes slightly Sansa spins out and in again, bringing her body closer to him then even when they last danced.

Soon they are the only two people, lost in the music as everyone else fades away. She twists and she turns and unlike before they’re graceful now, flowing into each other like water. His hands slide down her arms to her waist, spinning her slowly so her back is against his chest with her neck angled to look at him. Sansa feels as if they are floating. She places her hand over his on her waist and brings their other joined one up so it’s to the other side of his face.

She’s lost in his eyes. They’re large and warm and there is more love in them than she has ever seen. He looks at her as if she is the one that makes the sun rise every morning and make the stars shine in the night. Those are the eyes she wants to look into for the rest of her life. He will love her, care for her, and treat her well.

He turns her again, so her body is pressed against him like they were in the last dance. With ease he hoists her up so one leg wraps around his torso and the other extends. He’s holding her tightly, like he’s afraid she’ll break if he lets her go. Their eyes haven’t broken away as they continue to twirl and glide through the music.

As the music comes to an end, the world is still theirs and their lips are just seconds apart. Neither knows who moved that final distance, but when their lips seal together it hardly matters. They become even more lost in each other. It’s gentle and soft and isn’t much more than two sets of lips frozen in time, but it conveys more love and raw emotion than any poet can ever write or any singer can ever sing.

Their perfect world shatters with a slow clap. Both Jon and Sansa turn to see Jaime Lannister, Joffrey’s uncle. Sansa’d heard he was on the ship but she hasn’t seen him until now.

“Wonderful performance Lady Sansa, though I don’t quite remember the ballet ending quite like that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa deals with the aftermath of the night before, and learns an old family secret.

**Chapter 7**

Sansa doesn’t know what to expect come morning, when she’s told she will break her fast with Joffrey in the breakfast room. Shae seems more angry than Sansa is nervous as she helps her into her gown.

Nothing seems wrong when she enters the room, Joffrey is reading a paper while the servants organize the food on the table. Sansa sits across from him without any greeting, knowing it’s better for her to remain silent. Instead she takes the offered coffee and stirs it without drinking it. What will Joffrey do to her? To Jon? Joffrey will be King one day and the entire country will be under his command, he will do what he wants.

“I’d hoped to see you last night,” Joffrey says, setting down the paper.

She looks at him with large and cautious eyes, wondering what game he is playing this morning.

“I am sorry my Prince, I was not myself,” she says, wondering if by some miracle, Jaime decided not to tell anyone what happened.

“I would hope not, after last night I’d say you’d best have not been yourself,” Joffrey replies evenly, though there is a darkness to his words that make her shiver.

“I am sorry for what I did,” she says quietly, too quietly she knows.

“You will never disgrace me like that again Sansa, do you hear me?”

“I did not mean to disgrace-”

“By kissing another man?” Joffrey roars, rising from his seat, sending two goblets to the ground. “You are mine Sansa Stark, by the bond of our fathers you have been given to me to be my wife. You are mine! Only mine to do with as I see fit. I have shown you love and I have shown you kindness at you spit at my gifts as if you are better than I! I am a prince and I will be King, so next time you see your friend it will be his head on a platter that I serve you at our wedding feast. His blood will run from the platter onto your pretty white gown and I will make you kiss him then. If you see him again that will be his fate and it will be your fault, not mine or his, yours!” he screams, throwing the table so the plates and the glasses shatter onto the floor.

Sansa’s sure her heart stopped in his speech. Detailed images of every threat runs through her head and a fear she’s never felt consumes her. This is the Joffrey she saw with the serving girl, this is the man that will be King, and this is the man she is to marry.

Joffrey walks away, stepping over the broken pieces of glass.

Shae immediately runs in after he’s gone.

“Sansa,” she whispers, taking Sansa’s face into her hands. “Sansa look at me. Did he hurt you? Sansa answer me.”

“No, he didn’t touch me,” Sansa assures her maidservant through her sobs.

“Oh Sansa, say it and I will kill him now,” Shae whispers, cradling Sansa in her arms while the Queen to be sobs.

Later, when the tears have been dried and the red has faded from Sansa’s eyes, she’s being laced into yet another gown. Her mother had it made before they left the Free Cities in the colors of gold and black. It’s a hideous garment in Sansa’s mind, requiring the tightest corset she’s ever had to wear. She knows Shae’s trying to be gentle, but the ties aren’t even finished and already she can hardly breath.

“Shae, leave, now,” Catelyn Stark hisses as she enters Sansa’s room.

Neither mother or daughter says anything as Catelyn takes up the ties Shae left undone. Catelyn isn’t as gentle.

“I don’t understand you Sansa, how can you be so selfish as to kiss that stupid boy?”

“Selfish, I am the one who is selfish? You’ve sold me like a horse!” Sansa says angrily, turning to face her mother.

“To a future King! It’s what you always wanted, not to be some bastard’s wife.”

“I wanted a Prince that would love me and care for me. You know what he’s done! You heard what he did just this morning! He threatened to cut Jon’s head off and serve it to me at our wedding! What kind of a husband would do that to his wife? He is not the man father wanted for me!”

“No he is not, but he left us with debts when he died and Joffrey is the best match you will ever have. As for the boy, it serves him right for what he has done!” Catelyn yells, fury in her own Tully eyes that Sansa has never seen before. Her mother was a kind woman once, what has become of her?

“What has Jon ever done except save me to make you hate him so much?” Sansa bites back, truly at a loss.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Catelyn asks, realization on her face, though for what Sansa doesn’t know.

“Remember what?”

“I did not recognize him at first. At first I saw just a man who saved my daughter, but then I realized who he was. When Robb was a boy and your father came home from the war, I expected for him to sweep me up into his arms and kiss his new son’s head. I expected him to praise me for giving him a healthy boy, instead he rode in on his horse with a baby in his arms, a little healthy boy. He’d been unfaithful to me in the war, and as if it was not bad enough he brought the bastard home with him.” Sansa gasps, trying to picture her father, the noble and honourable Lord Eddard Stark being unfaithful. “He expected me to raise the boy alongside Robb, like a trueborn son. He was so angry when I refused. He hired a wet nurse to look after him. Robb loved to play with him, a brother, someone to play with in the snow. Then you were born and more than once I caught him in your room. He and Robb would sneak in and climb onto a chair to watch you sleep. When you started learning to walk, both he and Robb would stand on either side of you and hold your hand. I wanted to rip him away from you, brother and sister despite my hatred, and your father wanted to wed you together. I refused to allow it. You were five years old when I made your father send him away.”

“Jon is my brother?” Sansa asks, the weight of the information making her literally fall onto her bed. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's a little different from the movie, what will Sansa do now?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa rejects Jon only to have Shae try and convince her otherwise.

Chapter 8

Sansa avoids Jon at every turn, making Joffrey and her mother very happy. It keeps up for a week. Sansa is in the Church of the Seven, surrounded by her fiance’s family and her mother. She sings half heartedly beside Joffrey, who is not singing and instead looking over her shoulder at something. She turns to see Jon arguing with the footman and without a glance to Joffrey, she sets down her hymnal and politely excuses herself.

“Sansa,” Jon breaths in relief.

“It is alright Sir, I will take care of this,” Sansa says with an authoritative smile, dismissing the man as she turns her back to him. “Jon, if you will join me for a short walk?”

“Of course,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowed and confusion in his eyes. She hates to see him so lost, but she knows she has to do this. She has to shield him from Joffrey and her mother. There is no future for them, even if they stole away when the ship docked, they are still brother and sister and nothing can ever come of them.

“Jon, we cannot see one another anymore,” she finally says quietly, her eyes down so she does not have to look him in the eye.

“What…? Sansa, whatever Joffrey has threatened we can overcome. You are not happy with him and you deserve to be happy. I love you.”

“And I love Joffrey!” she says too harshly, looking up at him with ice blue eyes. “We cannot be together and that is all. Thank you, for saving my life, perhaps one day I may return the debt. I will be Queen one day soon,” she’s not sure who she’s trying to convince of this more, Jon or herself. She leaves before she can say anymore and he can say anything at all.

She returns to her room, tears in her eyes, and crumples to the floor, tearing at the strings of her front lace corset.

“Sansa,” Shae breathes from behind her, quickly setting down the towels and closing the door before running over to Sansa. “Sansa, Sansa, what’s wrong?” the handmaiden begs as she pulls her lady into her arms.

“I’m never going to see him again,” Sansa whispers.

“Oh Sansa,” Shae soothes, rubbing Sansa’s back and shushing gently. “Why can you not run away with him? You do not need the gowns and the jewels. You are a Stark of the North and you can survive in any circumstance. Run away with your boy and love him with all your heart. What shame is there in that?”

“He is my brother,” Sansa replies, as if the phrase alone is a damnation. Shae looks taken aback, but she quickly recovers.

“Targaryens wed brothers to sisters for thousands of years. They went mad after allowing it so long. Do not let your children fall in love, but love him. Be happy Sansa, it is what your father would have wanted. A woman once told me, that when you were born, they rang the bells at Winterfell from dawn to dusk. Your father treasured you as his child and he cared not for you to be Queen.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but I'm back and updating :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa makes Jon a promise, right before their entire world changes in a blink.

Sansa smiles a real smile for the first time in a week. Jon is sitting at the very front of the ship, looking out over the expansive sea. He looks real, unlike the uptight, overdressed people of court. There is a life to him that she’s only ever seen in her sister. She understands Arya now. Arya understood what she hadn’t, that being a Lady was a curse instead of a blessing. Sansa wants to run free, feet bare in the snow. She wants to sail the seas and see the world. She wants someone by her side who will kiss her instead of strike her, smile instead of smirk, and laugh instead of shout. Jon will give her a good life. He will embrace her for who she is and love her no matter the consequences. He is a youthful version of her father, though he is jaded instead of broken. She wants him, for now and for always.

“Jon,” she says, her face nearly splitting open from her grin.

“Sansa,” he whispers, almost like she’s an answered prayer.

“I changed my mind,” she tells him, her steps towards him a symbol of her steps away from her life. She will have to leave everything behind, but instead of frighten her the thought fills her with excitement. “I choose you.”

“Give me your hand,” he tells her, taking it before she can react, but she grasps it tight anyway, because she knows he will never let her go. With a smile he pulls her close. “Close your eyes Sansa… and trust me.” She does, she trusts him with her life. She feels everything, the movement of the ship, the wind through her hair, his hands over hers, his chest against her back, and his breath on her cheek. He pushes her forward gently and helps her up one rail, then two. He extends her arms and she feels like she’s flying. His hands are wrapped securely around her waist and she’s never felt so alive. “Open your eyes.”

The view is breathtaking. The sunset is beautiful and the water sparkles like a dark blue sapphire. She’s scared but she’s excited and she’s happy. She wonders if it was ever like this for her mother and father. Did her mother ever love her husband so much? She’s heard the stories, that Ned Stark and Catelyn Tully had a romance like none other, and that his death devastated her, turning her to a cold and bitter woman. Would she turn like her mother if she ever lost him?

“I have something for you,” he tells her, his cheeks bright pink, though she doesn’t know if he’s blushing or if it’s the cold.

“What could be better than this?” she breaths, smiling at him as if he hung the moon.

“Come,” he tells her with a sheepish smile, taking her hand and bringing her towards his bag. Without looking at her he reaches inside and removes a parchment. He bites his lip before handing it to her.

Her mouth opens slightly when she realizes that it is a poem. A poem written for her.

“I wrote it the first day I saw you, here on the deck where you looked so sad and your betrothed came out to get you. I fell in love with you right then.”

“Why…?” before she can finish her question, she sees Loras approaching them. Before she can think she takes Jon’s hand tightly in her own. “Run!” she screams, yanking him forward as they run. She’s laughing before she can think, and Jon happily joins her as Loras calls for others to assist him in “capturing” her.

They dance and they twirl and they’re chased all around the ship. When they finally lose them they’re on the deck again, a different deck, but still a deck.

“Jon,” she says with the brightest smile she’s ever given, she’s still half laughing, but she needs to say this before she loses her nerve, “when this ship docks, I’m getting off with you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she breathes, pulling him down by his collar for a kiss.

A bell goes off, startling them for a moment. Chaos erupts around them, men running in all directions.

“Jon,” she cries out as one of the men knocks her to the side while they run, “Jon!” she screams.

“Sansa,” he cries out, grabbing her around her waist just as something jolts them. They both go crashing to the ground.

“We’ve been hit!” someone shouts.

“Jon?”

  
“We’ll be alright Sansa, I’ve got you,” he whispers, “I will never let you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it starts... drop me a comment

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment and let me hear from you :)


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